The Unicorn Maze
by DeansUnicorn
Summary: Once again, Dean finds himself in strange surroundings and in the company of an unexpected companion. ... neither Supernatural, nor any of its characters belong to me. I just borrowed a few of them for a little while.


**The Unicorn Maze**

"What the…" Dean flinched as he spoke and ducked slightly as if dodging an oncoming fist. _Where was he all of a sudden? And exactly where had he been immediately prior to his arrival? _

None came. No fist. No foe. No fight.

There was nothing, literally nothing, but a dense fog completely surrounding him. The air was clear for a little more than arms length, then a wall of roiling cloud.

Determined to avoid any further demonstration of fear, he pulled himself to his full height, taking on the stance and expression of one inspecting a work in progress. The survey required no more than a cursory glance.

"Huh," he grunted to no one. About a six foot circle surrounded by fog, a space that could the size of a walk-in closet or more expansive than he could calculate.

There was music playing. It sounded far away when he first noticed it, but within only seconds it was loud enough to bring a grin to his lips. It was Warrant.

~~ she's my cherry pie ~~

"Well, at least I won't go nuts from the quiet," he said aloud, no longer certain whether or not he was alone in the fog.

~~ keep a smile on your face, ten miles wide ~~

~~ looks so good, brings a tear to your eye ~~

~~ sweet cherry pie ~~

He was about to call out to see if he'd get an answer when a female voice spared him the trouble.

"Come in, Dean."

The voice was familiar, but the matching face hadn't quite connected to it when a section of wall directly in front of him billowed away. Soon only wisps of fluffy white remained to mingle with the bright green leaves of the newly revealed ivy archway that appeared in its place.

"Maybe in a minute," he responded, with more than a little doubt.

He extended his arm, reaching out just to the right of the arch, taking care not to touch the leaves. The fog was only inches deep before giving way to something solid.

Using both hands, he swiped furiously at the fog separating him from the wall behind, but though his fingers passed easily though, the fog would not thin as it had for the ivy. If there was a solid wall to be seen on the other side, whoever, or whatever controlled the fog had no intention of allowing him to see it.

"Don't you trust me, Dean?" the woman from the other side of the ivy asked, her steady voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you're not careful you'll hurt my feelings."

Dean realized his mad swiping had fallen into rhythm with 'Cherry Pie' when the name of the owner of the voice finally clicked. "Meg." The sarcasm in his tone matched hers drip for drop.

His eyes turned to the voice and the fog gave way to expose Meg, sporting her signature Cheshire cat smile, standing just inside the arch. "I promise not to bite," she teased. "Come on. I'll pinky promise!"

Her lips looked as though might explode out of her face if they stretched any wider as she lifted her hand and crooked her little finger with all the enthusiasm of a toddler playing a new game with its mommy.

"I'll pass," he droned in reply, hoping she didn't have the power to cut the music.

Her grin melted away. "Spoil sport. You should have taken advantage of the promises while you could get them." She threw her hands up in frustration. "Too late now, the moment's gone, but you might as well come in." She made a sweeping gesture with one arm and a hint of her former playfulness returned. "There's a lot more room on this side."

Meg or a six-foot circle? _What a ridiculous choice to have to make,_ he thought before taking a deep breath and almost colliding into Meg as he stalked through the ivy arch. "Ain't life grand?"

"And filled with mystery," Meg cooed, swaying aside to avoid being run over.

The moment Dean passed through the arch, all the fog rolled away, leaving in its wake a wide sidewalk path bordered on each side by colorful flower beds and hedges that looked to be a good dozen feet tall. Looking ahead he could see there were occasional openings in the hedges.

"This the best mystery you could come up with? A hedge maze?"

Meg's face fell again. "Is that all it is? I guess a girl really can count on you for an anti-climax." She released a heavy sigh. "Well, my boy, this is turning out to be something barely worth crawling out of a crypt for." She cupped her hands behind her back and began pacing a slow circle around him.

"In the first place, I'm NOT your boy," Dean spat at her as she paced. "And in the second place, I have no idea what this place is."

Meg stopped and squinted a suspicious glare up at him. "Don't play dumb with me, Dean Winchester. I invented the game. You are obviously in the driver seat." When she got nothing from him but a stupid look she almost screamed, "DUH!" Pointing up and making a swirling motion with her hand she added, "If I was in charge, do you think I'd CHOOSE to be listening to this crap? On purpose?"

By reflex more than need, he looked up. Of course there was really nothing but distant pale blue overhead, but he did take note of the music changing. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie' faded out and was replaced with Led Zeppelin.

~~ drop down baby, let your daddy see ~~

He smiled his approval. "Sounds like my quarter in the juke box."

~~ drop down mama, just dream of me ~~

"How lovely for you," Meg said drearily. Her plan of irritating Dean by pacing circles was irritating her as well, so she gave it up and began trudging up the path. "This is probably where all the old 8-tracks came to die."

Dean's eyes brightened for the first time. "Cool!" he said, jogging to catch up to her.

About fifteen feet in, they arrived at the first available turn to the right. They both stopped and had a look. Unfortunately, you could only see in for a few feet because the path took an immediate turn.

"In or no?" Meg asked after neither had spoken for several seconds. When Dean failed to respond, she opened her mouth to ask again, but was silenced by the sound of horse hooves slowly approaching them.

A moment later, a white unicorn, with a long white mane and matching tail was standing just out of reach. The twisted spire of pearl protruding from its forehead was more than a foot long and seemed to be reflecting the sunlight, though there was no detectable sun to be seen here.

Meg sucked in a huge gasp as she stared in wonder at the magnificent beast, watching its taught muscles ripple as it pawed at the sidewalk and tossed its head up and down as if issuing them a personal invitation to enter this section of the maze.

As befuddled as Dean was by this unexpected unicorn encounter, the feeling was nothing when compared to the confusion he felt when he noticed the expression on Meg's face. She didn't appear to be confused in the least. She was enraptured.

At no point, in the entirety of time he'd known Meg, had he ever thought of her as beautiful, or even particularly pretty for that matter. She was nothing more than pitiless black eyes, buried within an unwilling vessel deemed to have strength adequate for the job, not chosen for its pleasing physical attributes.

Suddenly she looked up at him, wearing a smile he was forced to admit was indeed disarmingly pretty. Before realizing his facial muscles had even moved, he found himself involuntarily smiling back at her.

"How's Castiel?"

Dean simply stared at her for a couple of seconds before answering. He was having trouble registering the sound of her voice. She sounded almost like a songbird when she spoke Cas's name. "Uh, Cas? He uh, well I, I haven't seen him for a while."

Her smile receded a bit, but didn't go away entirely. "No? I guess being a knight in shining armor keeps him busy."

Rooms surrounded in fog, hedge mazes and unicorns were one thing, but Meg the she-demon sounding all sweet and cuddly and being pretty to boot was going to make his head explode any minute.

"Yeah," Dean answered, injecting as much gruffness as he could into his tone. "Flying around with all that chain mail is hard on the wings. Let's go."

"With the unicorn?"

Her pitch went up nearly an octave, with the corners of her mouth coming along for the ride. He half expected her to be jumping up and down and clapping her hands. "No, definitely NOT with the unicorn."

He turned back up the path and headed toward the next turn, a few yards up and to the left.

Looking into this turnoff was very much like the first, aside from it being on the opposite side of the main path. It too took another turn almost immediately, so there wasn't much to see from out here. It was a slightly smaller version of the path they were on now, with flowers along side and very tall hedges to keep you from seeing over.

"This one?" Meg asked when nothing appeared after almost a full minute of silent waiting. The mirth and charm present only moments ago was gone, leaving all the familiarity of Meg to keep Dean company.

"Might as well get this dog and pony show on the road," he answered as he took a step forward.

"Are you expecting hounds?"

Dean glanced back to see Meg's usual sardonic half grin. Somehow he took comfort in the return of _normal_ Meg. "If my luck is holding, there ought to be dozens of them." He turned and continued walking.

"Oh good. The glass is half empty today," she said, scurrying to catch up to him.

They made the first turn without incident and could see the next turn ahead before they heard them. This time the hooves were coming from behind them, and they were very close.

They turned in unison to see a unicorn, which could be a twin to the first, except this one is black. Its coat is a gleaming sheet of shining uninterrupted black, with the exception of its deep blue sapphire eyes and the pearl horn in its forehead.

"Whoa."

"Not sure unicorns take horse commands, Dean, but feel free to give it a shot." Meg took a sizable step backward, resisting the temptation to turn and run since she was certain the animal would have no difficulty chasing her down.

The unicorn stopped its advance the moment it was noticed. It simply stood blocking the pathway.

Upon processing the fact that he was standing in the presence of a unicorn for the second time in less than half an hour, and since it did not appear to be making any threatening gestures, Dean decided to try and figure out just how friendly it was. He extended both arms in front of him, with fingers splayed wide apart. "Easy there," he said softly as he took a tentative step forward.

When the unicorn did not react to his movements, he closed the space between them again, continuing one slow step at a time until he was able to touch the creature's hip. The unicorn gave a loud whinny and shook his head, sending cascades of black mane fluttering in all directions.

"Whoa, Nelly."

"Wrong as usual, Dean," Meg wailed, dissolving into gales of laughter, but still not coming any nearer.

He peeked downward for a quick gender check. "It's a saying, not a name, smartass. It's how you talk to horses." His hand was now resting on the unicorn's back.

"Is it now? In all the things I've heard about the Winchesters, I've never heard anything about you being a horse whisperer," she snapped back with a chortle. "Please, continue, I wouldn't want to disrupt the master at work."

Dean shot her a glare, but didn't respond. He had other priorities at present. Stroking the unicorn as he went, Dean inched his way to the head. To his surprise, when he took his first step around the nose, the beast seemed to sense what Dean wanted and he turned his body so there was enough space for Dean to comfortably get around him.

Everything was going according to plan, until Dean took his first step away from the unicorn. As soon as he headed back toward the main pathway, a wall of fog immediately filled the aisle. Knowing full well what he'd find when he got there; Dean bolted to the fog and reached out. Only inches within the fog was solid wall.

He pounded out his frustration on the wall until the unicorn poked him in the backside, sending Meg back into giggles. He whipped around with his hands in the air and the unicorn's horn less than an inch from the flesh beneath his jacket. "Okay, okay, I got it. No banging on the fog walls."

"I've always loved that about you, Dean," Meg called from her side of the unicorn. "You never give up. You're like a poster boy for the whole, try, try again thing." As before, she got only a glare in response.

When Dean made no move to resume his assault on the wall, the unicorn backed away from him and gave his head a toss in Meg's direction.

"Aw, look honey, he wants us back together again."

"Give it a rest, Meg," Dean barked as he stalked past the unicorn and up the path.

Meg fell into step with him and the black unicorn plodded along behind, the space between them gradually increasing as they went.

~~ I mixed the water, I drank the water ~~

What was this? It took him a moment to place it. _Ah yes, Stone Temple Pilots. Not quite old school, but it'll do in a pinch, _he thought approvingly. _I'm still driving._

~~ I broke the breadline, don't wanna know ~~

Dean took the first turn they came to, hoping to get away from the sound of hooves beginning to override the rhythm of the music in his head.

"So is that your unicorn following us? It figures you'd have a black one." Meg tilted her face up to him and smiled. "Think happy thoughts! Shake off some of that doom and gloom taking up so much space in you."

"I thought the unicorns were your thing," he growled without slowing his pace. He took another turn and glanced back. No one and nothing was following them, nothing he could see anyway. For the moment, that was enough to suit him.

"Not my thing. They're everyone's thing. They're what makes you happy, or what makes you feel like you want to be better than you are." She was smiling that sweet, genuine smile again.

"Unicorns don't make me happy."

She didn't need to see the scowl on his face; she could hear it in his tone. "Not the unicorn it's self, doofus, the thing the unicorn represents. What DOES make you happy Dean? What would it take? The answer is your unicorn."

Recalling Meg's reaction to the white unicorn, her sudden transformation from demon spawn into Strawberry Shortcake, he stopped before reaching the next turn and looked down at her. She was pretty again. He had an almost overwhelming urge to break her jaw, but he managed to hold it off. "So your unicorn, or whatever, is Cas?"

Her smile broadened at the mere mention of his name. "Castiel," she whispered, morphing from pretty to almost beautiful as she spoke. "He is an exceptional kind of special."

It was more than Dean was prepared to deal with at this, or likely any other moment. "Yeah, he's a real doozy," he said, hurrying the few steps to the next turn. He lifted a foot to make the turn and stopped dead in his tracks. It wasn't a turn. It was a room, a kitchen to be exact.

Somewhere in the distance the soundtrack to their little adventure was switching from 8-tracks to vinyl. The soft clicking sounds of a new record being dropped into place could be heard in the lull as he stared in either wonder or horror, he wasn't sure.

"Wow!" Meg exclaimed as she caught up with him and looked into the kitchen. "I have to confess, I wasn't expecting anything like this."

"You wanted unicorns," he said in an even monotone. "Careful what you ask for."

~~ black coffee, is my name ~~

She pointed upward, to indicate the invisible record player in the sky. "Nope, you're still driving. This has to be yours. Just look at it. It's enormous! Clearly it's overcompensating for something. It's you in a nutshell, a really, REALLY big nutshell."

~~ black coffee, freshly ground and fully packed ~~

The pretty was fading again. "After you," he said with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

"Not this time, Rainbow Brite," she scoffed, holding up her hands and taking a backward step. "This one's all yours. I think I'll take my chances with Black Beauty. He's bound to still be back there somewhere."

With Humble Pie blaring from distant speakers, Dean faced the huge white kitchen with its 50's style white appliances, its massive white harvest table in the center and the economy sized rainbow unicorn pawing the floor at the head of the table. "Fine."

Before entering, he turned to take a triumphant final glance at Meg, but she was gone. Her sudden disappearance rattled his resolve for only a second and having recovered it, he stepped into the room.

The moment he entered the kitchen, the maze dissolved behind him. A rapid survey of the room revealed no signs of doors or windows. Deciding to take the bull by the horns, as it were, he strode toward the rainbow colored, giant unicorn. It dematerialized before his very eyes.

The music coming from wherever it was coming from faded, though it was still audible, he could hear other things. He wasn't alone in the room. There was a woman leaning over to take something out of the oven. It was apple pie!

The background music wasn't a record after all, he noticed. It must be a radio, because they were going to commercial. It was an old one, baseball, hotdogs, apple pie and Chevrolet. _An oldie, but a goodie, _he thought. The woman stood up and turned to him. She was smiling.

"Have a seat, Dean. I'll cut you a slice," his mother said in the tone she used when she was particularly happy or contented.

His legs turned to jelly beneath him. "Mom?" He managed to grab the edge of the table to keep himself from falling.

"Dean!" she cried, plopping the pie onto a trivet, which appeared on the table from out of nowhere. "Sit down before you fall down. Have you been drinking?"

"No, mom, I'm fine, not drinking, just lost my balance a little, that's all," he sputtered, pulling out a ladderback chair and sitting before she reached him.

"Maybe you're getting sick?"

The worry in her voice was the sweetest, most heartbreaking sound he'd heard in a very long time. The flood of warmth that washed over him when she touched his brow brought with it a soothing comfort he'd forgotten ever existed. The smile he gave her was one he hadn't smiled since he was a very young boy.

"No, honest, I'm just fine," he promised. Then pointing across the table, he added, "I just need me some of that apple pie."

_This is it, _he thought. _This is my unicorn. Just sitting in a kitchen with my mother eating pie and talking about everything and nothing. This is all it would take, Meg._

Of course he'd no sooner thought the thought when he realized it what it would take was too much. His mother was long dead, and her apple pie and her conversation were gone with her. There was no retrieving any of them.

XXthunkXX

"What was that?"

His mother's voice brought him back to current events. He would have the rest of his life to mourn losses.

The sound came from behind him. There was something brown on the floor a few feet behind him.

"It looks like …" XXthunkXX Something landed and was now rolling under the table, probably another of whatever the first was. He looked down when it touched his boot. "A potato?"

"A sweet potato, you idiot!" Meg's voice was crisp and clear, and coming from somewhere out in the maze.

XXthunkXX

"OW!" Dean rubbed his shoulder with one hand, to make sure the impact hadn't broken anything. He pushed his mother under the table with the other. "Stop it, Meg. You'll hurt somebody! I'm not the only one in here."

XXthunkXX

"This is your wake up call, Mr. Winchester."

~~ song, song of the south ~~

"What?" Dean felt a shudder waft through him.

~~ sweet potato pie and shut my mouth ~~

"Alabama?" he braced himself and opened his eyes, expecting the worst. It was worse than he expected.

He was riding shotgun in his Impala. He looked to the driver's side to find Sam grinning broadly at him. "Welcome back sleepy head."

He reached toward the radio, but Sam grabbed his wrist. "Not so fast there, my man. Driver picks the music."

~~ gone, gone with the wind ~~

~~ there ain't nobody lookin' back again ~~


End file.
